Fin, Jax, Cael, and Nova stepped back into the Shadowclaw tent. Smoke from the braziers coiled lazily toward the roof beams, the air thick with cold steel, pine, and a faint trace of Nova's vanilla-and-moonlight scent. Aeron was already there, plant in hand, attention sharp and amused from whatever Fin had just mindlinked to him.
He tilted his head as Nova entered, his voice smooth but edged with that dangerous sing-song he used when someone had surprised him.
"Oh, Nova… how did you know that is how Astrahel won the war? That knowledge is not in any of the histories or books in Shadowclaw. Certainly not in any of the scrolls assigned to you."
Nova froze halfway to the table, her waist-length white-blonde hair catching the firelight so it gleamed warm gold. Her face went scarlet.
"A command log scroll was open on your desk once, and I… saw it."
Then Jax blinked at her, slow and incredulous. Fin did too. They glance at each other, then back at her, shaking their heads in quiet disbelief—the fond, helpless kind.
You'd think from her tone that she'd just robbed the royal treasury. The idea that she'd just read something that happened to be open, absorbed it, and then connected an obscure piece of war history to a live tactical problem—it was so purely Nova it almost hurt. Gods she was adorable.
Fin's mouth twitched, fighting the urge to grin. "Of course you did," he murmured under his breath.
Jax asked, "Will it work?"
Aeron let out a short huff of amusement, dipping his head in a half bow not answering.
His tone shifted to the kind a parent would use when they've caught a child bending the truth. "But, Nova…" he said, eyes narrowing slightly. "I've never told you about Lacrimaris's properties. And that log doesn't name it. It's not written anywhere for a reason. So how exactly did you know which plant it was referencing?"
Her face went even redder again and she swallowed, "I didn't for sure. But you just confirmed it for me now."
It took a heartbeat for her words to sink in.
Cael coughed into his hand, poorly disguising a laugh. Jax's shoulders shook. Fin exhaled sharply, doing a terrible job pretending he disapproved.
"So you just bluffed," Fin said flatly, keeping his face painfully straight. He refused to look at her or he would lose every shred of composure.
Aeron stared at Nova as though she had sprouted wings. "Let me guess. If it was not this one, you narrowed it down to one other. So no matter what, your plan would work. Is that correct?"
Nova swallowed, guilt written all over her gorgeous face. "My apologies, Aeron."
She did not answer the question, which, of course, answered it perfectly.
"Yes," he said, turning to Fin, Jax, and Cael. "Lacrimaris does exactly as she described. Ground and boiled. It doesn't even need to be packed tightly. It reacts violently to liquid magic—combusts instantly. It was banned for centuries after Astrahel used it."
Fin nodded once, the protective edge still there in his voice. "Can you prepare it for us?"
Aeron's lips curved, faint and knowing. "Already ahead of you, Alpha. I'll have it ready before the hour's gone."
He swept from the tent, the air shimmering faintly in his wake. Fin watched him go, and immediately turned to Nova. She was still flushed.
"A command log that fell open," Cael chuckled quietly. "Saints help whoever underestimates you."
"First you trick the mage, next you rob a bank." Jax said, now unable to hold back his laughter.
Fin playfully pulled her back against his chest, arms locking around her waist before she could react. She let out a startled scream that turned into a laugh as he lifted her clean off the ground.
"Fin!" she gasped, half laughing, half scolding.
He grinned up at her. "That's for bluffing a room full of alphas," he said, voice low and teasing. "Next time you plan to outsmart our mage, at least give me a warning."
The tent flap rustled and Aeron returned, the faint scent of resin and crushed root clinging to him. Aeron set about the preparation with the focused calm of a man used to dangerous hands. He stripped the leaves, dried them, crushed them into a paste, and mixed them with resin.
He worked in silence, the flames catching the resin's scent as he applied a thin smear to a handful of blunt-headed training bolts laid on the table.
Before Fin could speak, Jax stepped forward. "I think I should go with Nova," he said evenly, meeting Fin's gaze. "Your powers aren't fully developed yet—mine are. I've been around Onyx a few days longer and I'm on good terms with the Redmoon pack. They're our number one alliance, and Rex and I have already built trust."
Aeron didn't hesitate. "He has a point," he said, tone thoughtful but firm. "His control is more stable. He's had months of sustained practice. If something goes wrong with the magic near the reservoirs, he'll be able to shield."
Cael's voice came then, unexpectedly firm. "It wouldn't be smart to send both our Alpha and Luna. The standard protocol is to separate to not risk both. I have to side with them on this." He glanced toward Fin, not unkindly. "I'm sorry, brother."
Fin's jaw flexed, the muscle in it tightening. Gods, he wanted to be the one to go. To keep her safe. But reason held him where instinct would not. They were right. Jax's power was more honed.
He looked into Nova's green eyes. He looked at Jax and the logic was sound. He let out a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been a surrender. "Jax," he said, voice low, "you're steadier. My wolf will sit this one out and watch the flank." He straightened. "Do not let her out of your sight."
Jax's voice came low, steady, without bravado. "I will guard her with my life."
Fin, whose hands felt more comfortable on steel than on spellcraft, selected the arrows that would carry the paste—stout shafts, balanced fletching, points that would survive the friction of a dragon's flight.
Alpha Redmoon and Rex swept into the tent while Aeron worked, wind and authority combined.
Aeron set a small satchel on the table, its contents wrapped in oiled cloth. He also set a small jar on the table with paste inside. "Lacrimaris," he said simply pointing at both. "Dried and sealed. Or as a paste. Both will hold potency for days."
"Paste makes more sense—won't throw the aim," Fin said.
Ragnar's face was unreadable until Rex nudged forward with his usual bright-knife grin. "How much needs to go on an arrow for it to do the trick?"
Aeron looked up, faint amusement in his eyes. He tapped the paste on the arrowhead once, just enough to smear the tip. "This much," he said, voice a quiet blade. "Even days-old."
"Will there be risk of these combustion if Nova uses her magic?" Fin asked, frowning.
"No. Harmless. It only reacts to a compound found in liquid magic." He said. His hand glowed gold touching the arrow to show them.
Redmoon looked at Fin, then Nova, then Rex. "Rex provides the wing and pulls back immediately. No landing. No contact."
Fin nodded once, a short, sharp motion. "Let's get this done."
Outside the tent, Onyx's shadow skittered across the canvas like a promise. Inside, the small, dangerous things were prepared: smears of Lacrimaris sealed and drying, shields readied, arrows fletched and paired with riders.
Jax ran his hands through his hair once and then straightened, the look of a man stepping into a duty he'd sworn to keep.
They left the tent with their orders in place—calm, precise, the tension folded into readiness.
The test would decide whether Lacrimaris was the lever they needed or a snakebite that would leave them bleeding for weeks.